


At the Drop of a Hat

by Guardy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - School, Gen, I swear I know what I'm doing, OOC-ness for the sake of avoiding weird anime characterisations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6509464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardy/pseuds/Guardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Nando managed to turn up quite a bit late for his new job and also managed to make a lasting impression on Wallace - *the* Wallace, Champ of the Hoenn region - in the process.</p>
<p>People have squinted hard enough to read stuff from this AU as Nando/Wallace before, and while that wasn't my original intention, I can't really disagree with them. <br/>You can just as well read it as Nando and Wallace just being friends, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Drop of a Hat

**Author's Note:**

> Spin-off/additional scene thing to a series of fics set in the same universe. I never bothered translating it into English, but if you speak German and just so happened to be active on the BisaBoard in 2008-2012(ish...?), you might know it as Pokeschool.
> 
> If you're wondering, it's a mix of game, anime and maybe some manga canon, except that the kids didn't do most of the things they'll do during the anime yet, by virtue of travelling being a summer break thing and them being, like, 13 years old. *Actually* 13; not 'how-long-have-you-been-13'-13. There's also plenty of suspension-of-disbelief-heavy AU bits and it probably makes a helluva lot more sense in context. For now, just roll with it, please. 
> 
> This is a spur-of-the-moment, un-betaed thing I decided to post because the last time I actually posted something online was almost half a decade ago and I've got to get used to it again, now that I'm rewriting (and probably translating, if anybody is interested) Pokeschool.

Wallace of Sootopolis, most esteemed Champ of the Hoenn region, Contest Master (and, somewhat less glamorously, teacher), sat on a bar stool at the counter of his favorite bar, idly dragging his fingers across the rim of his glass and glancing over to the entrance of the cozy little establishment every now and then.  
It was a perfectly ordinary Friday evening, and like every Friday evening during the term he was spending it at the Café & Bar Preening Pidgeot.   
He usually didn't have to drink alone.

  
He shouldn't _be_ drinking alone, really, but Nando, a fellow teacher at the local school and his usual Friday-evening-companion had yet to show up.  
Admittedly, it was only 7 minutes past 8 and perfectly in the realm of being fashionably late, but Wallace coveted their precious few hours of drink and conversation enough to be annoyed regardless.

  
With a sigh, the man poked at his mobile phone, checking for missed calls or messages from his friend, before putting it back in his pocket with a slight air of disgust. He wasn't quite desperate enough for attention to resort to compulsive message checking yet, he decided.   
Three minutes later - he was just about to reach for the phone again - the door finally opened and inside stepped a tall, dark-haired man wearing a ridiculous, battered green hat and a dramatically swishing cloak of a nearly-matching color.

  
Wallace watched him as he hung the hat and cloak on a coat hanger, righted the crooked sleeves of his loose, flowing shirt and discreetly checked his hairstyle for hat-induced damage, before walking over to the counter as if he had all the time in the world.   
"You're late," Wallace greeted him.  
"A good evening to you, too, dear friend," was the calm, mildly amused answer.  
"You left me waiting on two consecutive Fridays now. Careful, lest this become a habit."  
"It was just bad luck, Wallace, I ran into some trouble grading papers, and you're exaggerating. Can you even recall the last time I was late before last week?"  
Wallace cocked his head, pretending to think, before nodding.  
"Yes, and you were late by four whole days, too. I think you've met your quota for the next few decades."

 

 

-several years earlier-  
The first time Wallace had met the strange young minstrel was during the first week of school after a summer break, on a warm, sunny Thursday morning.  
As (almost) every morning, he had arrived on time, parked his car in the same spot as always, grabbed his bag and left for the entrance of the dignified old school building.  
That particular morning, however, an unfamiliar face amidst the crowd of students, teachers and Pokemon grabbed his attention.   
That was unusual all by itself; the school was small, and apart from some particularly elusive fifth-graders, he usually knew everyone who had any business being there, if only in passing.

  
The man the face belonged to seemed lost, looking around with furrowed brows and a frown, as if he was searching for something.   
Wallace, feeling unusually helpful despite the early hour, gracefully walked over to him.

  
He knew quite well what he must have looked like in that moment - turquoise hair seemingly glowing in the sun, his cloak billowing dramatically behind him - and expected the odd fellow with the shabby green hat to react accordingly as he carefully touched his shoulder to announce his presence - words would've been drowned out by the excited chatter of the kids surrounding him, he knew that from his own experience, and didn't even try.

  
The mystery man turned around and reflexively took a step back. Then stopped. Blinked, in mild surprise. Not in complete awe and adoration, nor utter shock, somehow. Then those pretty, dark grey eyes - or were they blue? It was hard to tell - found Wallace's.

  
"Champ Wallace?" the mystery man asked, barely audible over the wild horde of students, but sounding surprisingly calm and collected regardless. Not the appropriate reaction to meeting an actual Pokemon League Champion. And Contest Master. Not to mention the quite possibly most stylish man in town.  
"The very same," Wallace replied after a second of baffled silence. "And you are...?"  
"My name is Nando - I was supposed to start teaching here at the start of the term, but I appear to have run somewhat late."  
Wallace wordlessly motioned Nando to follow him, and stepped away from the student horde until the noise level had become more bearable.  
"'somehwat late' is an understatement," the Champ finally said, with barely-contained curiosity, "the term started _four days ago_. Where in Arceus' name have you been?"  
Mystery man - Nando - ducked his head and had the decency to look mildly uncomfortable for a second or two, before speaking:   
"I just arrived from the Sinnoh region. I was travelling by ship and it... well, it sank."  
"It... what?"  
"It sank," Nando repeated, casually, like he was used to being shipwrecked on a weekly basis, "I phoned the headmaster from the Pokemon Center we were brought to right away, but haven't been in contact with him since - I unfortunately lost my mobile phone in the waves."  
"... are you alright?" Wallace asked, lacking much of his usual eloquence, but heck - he was only human after all.   
"Oh yes, I am quite alright," Nando said with an ever-so-slight smile and adjusted his tattered green hat, which had been dislodged by a gentle breeze.  
"Good." Wallace nodded, more to himself, and had a proper look at his new co-worker for the first time. He was tall and slim, his hair very dark and long. He had a pleasant, even face that was half-covered by his bangs. The fellow was about Wallace's age, probably a few years younger, even, but that old-fashioned, dusty-green hat, the tattered cloak of a color that almost - but not quite - matched the headwear, combined with the somewhat medieval-looking rest of the man's outfit made him appear older than he should have. For the first time, Wallace noticed that Nando's long, slim hands were cradling a small harp in the shape of a Mew.  
"What are you going to teach?" asked Wallace after a few seconds of silence.

  
"A class on mastering Pokemon Contests... oh, and one on music."  
Pokemon Contests? Wallace knit his eyebrows together in displeasure - the Contest classes were _his_ responsibility - before stifling an annoyed sigh.   
He _did_ vaguely remember the headmaster mentioning something about a new colleague taking the beginner's classes off Wallace's all-too-busy hands, but hadn't really paid attention at the time. Now he'd have to bear the consequences and deal with all the horribly bad habits that cloaked weirdo would doubtlessly cause his students to develop.   
Who'd decided to give that job - _his_ precious Contest classes - to some nobody he'd never even heard about, anyway?

  
"You do not mind, I hope?" asked Nando.  
"Why should I?" Wallace asked back, probably a bit more sharply than strictly justified.  
"To begin with, I'm not a Contest Master, unlike you, and you have most likely never heard of me."  
Wallace almost - almost - blushed. Nando was echoing his very thoughts perfectly, and by Giratina's beard, when they were actually voiced they sure seemed shallow.  
"You are perfectly welcome to have a look at my curriculum with me, or watch one of my classes, if you've the time, and see if anything seems off to you," Nando added with a shrug, "but for now I would really appreciate some help in finding the headmaster's office."  
"You wouldn't mind me interfering with your work?" asked Wallace.  
"That depends on who's doing the interfering," was the quietly amused answer, "and in your case, I'd consider it quite an honor. I do admire your work, you know? Besides, I want to teach the children as well as I possibly can, and I do think cooperation between their teachers will be rather decisive in this venture, wouldn't you agree?"  
"Completely," Wallace found himself saying, "now, come along, I'm fairly certain the headmaster will be _very_ eager to see you."  
And so they went, making their way through the slowly dissolving troves of students.  
Somehow, Wallace thought, this day suddenly seemed a lot more promising.

 

-

 

"Well," Nando grinned, "everything turned out quite nicely, if I do say so myself."  
"Hmmm," Wallace hummed and contemplated his drink, "It most certainly did. So, you were saying something about having trouble with some of the papers you have to grade - or was that just a flimsy excuse to escape the wrath of the stood-up friend?"  
"Oh, you simply cannot imagine what those children put me through sometimes..."  
"I've seen Ash's handwriting, I don't think it can get much worse than that..."  
"I- hm. No. No, you're right," Nando said, half sighing, half laughing and raised his glass to another splendid Friday evening with his favorite co-worker.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm super rusty, please be nice to me.
> 
> Still, if you're reading this, it probably means you've read the story and didn't close the tab on me in exasperation - I'll take that as a good sign.
> 
> I'm somebody who views kudos' as a short way of saying "nice fic" and appreciates them just as much as comments, but if you'd like to see more of the Pokeschool universe - be it in the form of additional one-shot tidbits or a translation of the entire thing (as soon as the German rewrite is done) - you should probably tell me, because I have no idea if that's a thing that should be a thing. Yep.  
> Beware, though, the actual main fic is quite a bit more relaxed in style and humorous in content.  
> Basically, the above thing, but as told from the perspective of a nosy little student.
> 
> If you enjoy giving constructive criticism, I'd love to know how the readability on this was - I tried to keep a certain balance between keeping it simple (but possibly alienating readers because what is this? Nando speaking like a modern human being? No Way!) and keeping the characters somewhat more in character (but potentially making the story incomprehensible, because Nando), but I have no idea if it worked.


End file.
